


Linger

by LAWood



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Filler Episode, Gen, Hurt Noctis, Minor Original Character(s), Poison, Possession, Side Quest, Whump, whump for the sake of whump, worried friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LAWood/pseuds/LAWood
Summary: When a hunt goes wrong the prince is gravely hurt and it's up to the other members of the party to save him. They bring him to the Healing Temple of Garn in hopes that he can be saved, but things may not be as they first appear...





	1. Chapter 1

“Well,” Prompto sighed, “I don’t see anything, let’s go.”

Gladiolus grabbed his collar as he started to walk away, “Oh, no you don’t,” he pulled him back into formation, “We don’t leave until the job is done.”

“Quite right,” Ignis remarked, pushing his glasses up his nose, “We simply need to look a bit harder.”

“All this looking is making me tired.” Noctis yawned and stretched his arms skyward.

“Everything makes you tired.” Gladio grunted.

“Except sleeping.” Noct quipped, flashing a royal grin.

“Might we focus on the task at hand and not the prince’s fatigue?” Ignis asked ever so politically.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” Prompto nodded and walked forward reluctantly, scouring the dry ground for signs of burrowing.

Noctis hung back, as the others continued their search, and pulled out the wanted poster from his pocket. Red-Tipped Crawlers were the hunt of the day, giant insects with seven pointed legs with red coloured tips, hence the name. They were desert creatures, forcing the party to hunt in the heat, much to everyone’s disdain except for Gladio.

The prince pulled off his jacket and threw it into the back seat of the Regalia, rubbing his forehead under his fringe. Why did it have to be the desert? No shelter from the shade and nowhere to sneak in a quick nap while the others are preoccupied. Just a lot of good-for-nothin’ dirt.

Ignis studied hard, squinting at the ground and stalking along at a snail’s pace. Every detail matters, he would tell the others if they teased him, and they must take their time if they are to do things the right way. His attention to detail would be rewarded far sooner than expected as he spotted a peculiar star-shaped crack in the ground, about the size of a car tyre. He stopped and crouched down to examine the mark closer. The click of Prompto’s camera distracted him for just a moment before he reached down and pushed the dirt with his finger, testing its density.

Prompto viewed the image he had just captured. Ignis down on the ground with a studious look on his face. It was good, but nothing he didn’t already have. He saved the photograph nonetheless and then glanced around to see if there was anything else worth getting a picture of. Noctis looking bored, Gladio looking annoyed at Noctis for looking bored. Same old.  A selfie would have to do then. He grinned wide and pointed the camera at his face, squinting hard against the brash sun.

“Found anything yet, Iggy?” Gladio called, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Perhaps.” Ignis muttered.

The dirt was soft here, easy to dig into. It could be an entrance to the nest, Ignis thought. But it could also be an empty hole where the creatures once hid but have now vacated. Only one way to find out. He started to dig gently with a dagger, moving the dirt aside to see what lay beneath. He moved slowly and precisely as the others started to make their way towards him.

The dagger caught on something hard under the ground and Ignis froze, careful not to cause a disturbance to whatever could be under there. He swapped the dagger to his other hand and began to brush the dirt away, revealing a dark insect-like appendage.

“Looks like our guy.” Gladio remarked, smirking at the ground.

“Indeed.” Ignis murmured.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Gladio summoned his weapon to his hand and swung it up onto his shoulder.

“We should form a plan.”

“We should get this over with.” Gladio pushed Ignis aside and swung his great sword down onto the appendage, slicing it clean in two and eliciting a high pitched squeal from beneath them.

“Uh, guys,” Noctis cleared his throat, staring hard at the poster in his hands, “Did you see how big this thing is?” he held up the poster and Prompto took it from him, studying the details.

“Around twenty feet tall at adolescence.” Ignis answered, glaring at his heavy-handed friend.

“So he’s big,” Gladio shrugged, passing his sword between his hands in preparation for battle, “nothin’ we can’t handle.”

Long spindly legs rose out of the ground like tent poles, dwarfing the party as the big bulbous body of the creature hung in the air. Tens of eyes blinked at Gladio, pincers snapping in his direction

“You guys are worried about one overgrown bug?” Gladio chuckled in the face of the creature.

The ground began to shake and crumble as several other creatures of the same species made their way out of the ground around them. One climbed up from under Prompto, lifting him into the air and throwing him aside like a fallen leaf. It let out a threatening shriek as Prompto hit the ground, landing square on his face.

“Prompto!” Noctis’ blade flashed to his hand and he leapt at the creature, slashing at it and sending it backwards away from his friend. He rushed to his side and grabbed his hand to help him up, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto scrambled to his feet and brushed himself down, “No harm done.”

“Less talk,” Gladio growled at them, swinging his sword, “More action.”

Bright red blood started to roll down Prompto’s face and Noctis felt his anger swell, “Right,” He said turning towards the rest of the creatures with a scowl.

The battle commenced, blades clashing against hardened exoskeletons and throwing sparks into the dry air around them. The bodies of the creatures were lightweight, but well protected by a thick layer of exoskeleton which took a lot of force to cut through or break. The creatures dashed around, ducking low and then lifting up high on their legs to dodge attacks.

Ignis took a hard shot to the ribs, as one of the creatures head-butted him, and hit the ground with a dull thud. He stayed down longer than Noct was comfortable with and the prince rushed to his aid, warping straight to the creature, which was preparing to strike Ignis once again, and slashing at it with his blade. The creature squealed before it fell, succumbing to its injuries while Noct ran towards Ignis.

“Iggy, you alright?” he knelt beside him.

“Just a scratch.” Ignis grunted, taking Noctis’ extended hand and allowing him to help him to his feet.

Gladio cried out and the two looked over. A deep gash had been opened up on his arm, but he continued fighting, getting almost instant revenge on the creature that hurt him by cutting it in half, right down the middle.

There were five left now. They were still outnumbered, but progress inspired confidence and they felt the chance of victory linger in their grasp. They were putting up a great fight. Stood a real chance. But poor attention to detail was ultimately their downfall. Ignis was the first to notice, not that it made much of a difference.

It only took a second of lapsed concentration for Noctis to lose his footing. Taking a hit in the side from one of the creatures, the weight of his sword got the better of him and he fell backwards to the ground. He scrambled to retrieve his weapon, but it was too late. The creature stood above him and plunged it’s sharpened appendage into his shoulder. The smell of burning skin quickly filled the air and he let out a scream.

The prince’s pained screams prompted all three of his comrades to come running. It was their duty. Like a mother’s brain is tuned to listen out for her baby’s screams, they were designed to respond to his need for aid. Gladio was the first to reach him; slicing the air with his sword and breaking the creature’s offending limb clean in two. The end was still stuck in Noctis’ flesh and he reached to pull it out, but found that he didn’t have the strength. Instead, he simply held onto it and let out a cry of pain, his blood like fire moving around his body.

Agony flooded through him instantly, and then he felt cold. He had been injured in battle before, but something was different. His fingertips felt numb, his muscles weak and aching. He tried to get up, like he normally would after an injury like this, but he could barely move. Vomit rose to his throat as the pain returned, scorching around the wound in his shoulder and showing no signs of relenting.

Ignis threw himself to the ground beside Noctis, kneeling over him to protect him from further attacks. Gladio and Prompto took their places in front of them, a united front against the creatures. They would have to take care of the rest by themselves while Ignis treated Noctis. They launched into action, fuelled now by the need to finish the battle and return to Noctis’ side.

“Noct, what is it?” Ignis asked. He could clearly see the foreign object sticking out of his shoulder, but there was little blood loss and a lack of any other signs of injury. Nothing that could explain Noctis’ suddenly laboured breathing and cold sweat. “What it is, Noct? Tell me!”

He cried out in pain, “Ignis, it burns! It’s burning!” he shrieked, still holding on to the protruding appendage.

It took just a few more seconds of thought before poison became a suspicion. Ignis reached down and pulled the ripped fabric around the wound further apart to study the site. Noctis’ pale skin was turning purple and littered with thick and dark veins. Suffice to say, it looked very poisoned indeed.

“Gladio, Prompto!” He called out suddenly, lifting Noctis’ heavy head off of the ground. “Abandon the hunt! To the car, quickly!”

The two turned to him, puzzled at first. But then they saw the look on their friends’ face and knew instantly that things had gone from bad to worse. They pushed the creatures back with a few further attacks and then made a run for it.

When Prompto saw Noctis up close he lost the ability to breathe for a few seconds. He wasn’t injured, he was dying.

Gladio lifted Noctis up with ease, not throwing him over his shoulder like he would normally due to the giant appendage sticking out of him, and the three ran for the car. Noctis cried out as he was moved, his body limp and his eyes rolling back.

“Prompto, in the back!” Ignis ordered.

“How come?”

“Because Noct needs to lie down and you take up the least amount of room!” He replied, swinging the door open and throwing him in. Gladio and Ignis both gently laid Noctis out across the back seats with his head on Prompto’s lap.

“If he starts to cough or convulse turn him over,” Ignis instructed, “don’t let him choke.”

Prompto gulped audibly and looked down at Noctis, taking in his pale, damp face. He took out a cloth and was about to wipe the blood dripping down his cheek from the cut on his forehead, but instead he dabbed Noctis’ forehead, drying the cold sweat from under his thick black fringe. He wiped the blood on his shoulder for now.

“Gladio, you’re driving, I need to tend to Noct.” Ignis threw him the keys, holding his ribs with the other hand.

“Got it…” he caught then and climbed into the car, “Where am I driving to?”

“There’s a Healing Temple not far from here, it’s the only place within a hundred miles that might be able to contend with this sort of poison.” He marked the destination on the map and handed it to Gladio.

“And what sort of poison is that?”

Ignis sighed and glanced over his shoulder. “One I’ve never seen before.”

Gladio silently started the engine and pulled away, kicking up dust into the air.

“Hey, Iggy?” Prompto whimpered, “He’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Of course he is.” He replied, sifting through the contents of the glove compartment. “We just need to get him to the healers as quickly as possible.”

“Do my best.” Gladio grunted and pressed his foot all the way down on the gas pedal. Prompto knew things were serious because Ignis didn’t say anything about Gladio’s driving.

“Right,” Ignis leaned over to the back of the car, placing his knee behind the gear stick and his hand on the head rest next to Prompto. A scrap of gauze in his hand, he studied the wound carefully. “Prompto, when I say so, I need you to place this over the wound and hold it there. You need to hold it there quite firmly to suppress the bleeding. Understand?”

He nodded and took the bandage in his hand.

“Right,” he repeated, “On three, ready?” Prompto nodded silently again, his hand trembling. “One, two, three,” On the last count he pulled the poisoned limb out of Noctis’ shoulder with a grunt and Prompto clamped the thick piece of gauze down over the open wound. “Well done, old boy.” He nodded at Prompto who had paled significantly. “You hold that there for a moment, I’m going to see what I can do about Gladio’s wound and come back, okay?”

Prompto nodded, still not able to offer a verbal reply and looked down at the red stain spreading slowly out from the centre of the white gauze in his hand.

Ignis returned to the front seat and paused, clutching painfully at his side. Blood had started to appear on his shirt, but he ignored it for the moment and turned his attention to the deep gash on Gladio’s upper arm.

It would need stitches for sure. It was deep and wide and the skin around it was bright red and probably throbbing. It looked painful, but Gladio never said a word of complaint. He had received far worse in battle over the years in the Crownsguard.

Once Ignis had finished suturing and dressing Gladio’s wound, he started on his own. He unbuttoned his shirt from the bottom to the middle and studied the deep red bruising on his ribs. There was a deep cut that had started to clot and he set to work cleaning and suturing it.

Blood had trickled into Prompto’s blond fringe and was seeping into his eye. He wiped it again on his shoulder and rubbed it out of his eye, feeling the fatigue of battle starting to set in. He leaned back and stared out the window, humming a cheerful tune to himself to try and keep his hopes up. His hand rested gently on Noctis’ chest over the now-wet gauze, feeling the slow rise and fall and feeling reassured that he was still alive. They hadn’t lost him yet.

By the time Ignis had finished they had been on the road for some time now. No one had said a word since they set off. He leaned down, took the suture between his teeth and bit it in two, tying up the loose end and securing a bandage over his wound.

Noctis let his head loll to the side, watching Ignis’ brow creasing hard as he worked on suturing his wound. He focused on Ignis, transfixed on his hands as he listened to Prompto’s jovial humming. He felt happy, surrounded by his friends in the beloved Regalia. Everything was good, so good that he didn’t mind letting go. Maybe it was time, he thought. Holding on just seemed so hard, it would be easier to just drift away. He let his eyes close, thinking about how much he loved his friends and how happy he was that they stuck by him and accompanied him on this journey. Right up until the end.

 

Prompto opened his eyes, realising that he had dozed off and wondering why his body felt so heavy. He looked down and remembered that Noct was lying on top him. He frowned hard and sighed, sad that the situation at hand had not in fact just been a bad dream. Something wasn’t right. He stared at Noct’s closed eyes and blinked, the realisation not quite sinking in yet. He reached over and held the back of his hand in front of Noctis’ mouth and nose.

Nothing.

He touched his hand to Noct’s face, waiting for warm breath to hit his skin.

Nothing.

“H-he’s not breathing.” Prompto gasped without realising he had even spoken. He stared it Noct’s face, waiting for the realisation to hit. His chest was still, his eyes closed like he had been asleep forever. He placed a hand on Noct’s cheek, trying to convince himself that this was real.

Ignis looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose and spotting the panic-stricken look on Prompto’s face.

“Iggy, he’s _not breathing_!” He shrieked, now shaking with terror.

“What the hell’s going on back there?” Gladio grumbled as Ignis launched forward between the front seats. He reached down and put two fingers to Noct’s neck.

“Is he dead?” Prompto squealed.

“Shhh!” Ignis hissed sharply and focused on locating a pulse. There wasn’t one. “Prompto, support his head.”

“But--”

“Listen to me,” He grunted, “Right now, I need you to keep it together. He needs you to. Can you do that? Prompto?”

“What’s happening? Ignis?” Gladio cried, blind to the situation while behind the wheel.

Prompto nodded and slid his arms under Noctis’ head, stopping it from falling limply to the side and cradling it gently.

“I don’t think so, Your Highness.” Ignis muttered, rolling up his sleeves and placing his hands over Noctis’ chest. “You’ve got a wedding to get to and I don’t think your bride would be best pleased if you should showed up in this state.” He then proceeded to push down on Noctis chest in a steady rhythm, trying to pump his heart back into action.

Prompto watched as Noctis’ body jerked under Ignis’ hands, but failed to respond to the attempts of resuscitation.

“Come on, Noct.” Ignis grunted encouragement, sweat starting to form on his brow. “Don’t you dare.”

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Gladio called from the driver’s seat, manoeuvring his rear view mirror to try to see what was happening while keeping an eye on the road.

“Come _on_!” Ignis shouted, more aggressively than Prompto had ever heard before.

He opened his mouth to speak but could not verbalise what was playing out in front of him. Noctis is dead and Ignis is trying to break open his chest with his bare hands…That about summed it up.

Ignis stopped. He pulled himself up and slumped back down into the front seat, staring at Noctis in defeat. He stared, his eyes empty and his chest heaving.

“What happened?” Gladio demanded, studying Ignis for clues.

He shook his head. “He’s gone.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Gladio glared hard at Ignis, and then glanced over his shoulder. Prompto was visibly trembling, almost scared to touch Noct’s lifeless body. His head had lolled to the side, his hand draped down the chair and resting on the floor of the car. Gladio looked back at Ignis, about to ask why he’s just sitting there. Why isn’t he doing anything? Why isn’t he helping Noct?

But the look on his face answered all those questions before Gladio could ask them. They had failed. Not just in their Royal Duty, but in their duty to their friend. They had failed Noct and in doing so failed their nation and the people within it. They had failed Lady Lunafreya. Tasked with the duty of delivered her betrothed to her, they had let him die and therefore doomed the attempt at unity that she and the prince were bound to.

Gladio kept driving, not saying a word and not able to look at Ignis any longer. He looked more distraught than any of them. Having been responsible for the young prince since he was three years old, he was the most bound to his duty. He had lived and breathed for the royal family and for Noctis his whole life. His sole purpose in life had just died in the back seat before his very eyes. He just stared at Noctis, unable to tear his gaze away, but clearly finding it difficult to watch his ward’s body void of all life.

They continued their journey in silence. Prompto had started to cry. To himself and almost without sound, he had begun to weep with his hands over his face. Ignis’ instinctual urge to comfort him was easily overpowered by grief and he remained where he was, his body not reacting to any signals or instructions.

When they arrived at the Healing Temple nobody moved. Not for a good minute or so. Until Prompto swiftly swung the door open and slipped out from beneath Noctis, falling to the ground and scrambling a few feet away. He could still feel death on him, on his clothes and his skin and creeping into his lungs. He felt choked by it and turned over onto his hands and knees, facing away from the car and his fallen friend.

Healers came pouring out of the temple, hearing their arrival. Draped in white garbs with purple cords and golden jewellery, the Healers scurried towards the car.

“Are you all right, child?” A woman with warm mahogany skin knelt beside Prompto and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, “No,” he forced out the words, “It’s my friend,” he said, unable to hold back a sob that exploded out of him.

The woman stayed with him while the others rushed to the car.

“What happened?” A healer asked, standing over Noctis.

Gladio dropped his head, unable to admit their failure.

“He was poisoned.” Ignis said, “He has succumbed.”

The healer looked between the two of them before leaning down to study the prince.

Another healer peered over her shoulder. “Is that the prince?”

Murmurs erupted all around them as the group began to discuss until the first healer raised her arm and silence fell. Ignis deduced that she was the leader. “We will bring him in.” She placed her hands at either side of his face and closed her eyes. “His soul lingers. He is not yet lost.”

Two woman burst through the crowd with a stretcher and together the healers lifted Noctis onto it and rushed him into the temple. Suddenly the three were left alone with just the Regalia and their prayers.

 

* * *

 

The men eventually made their way into the Temple together. The high ceilings and empty halls made them feel small and alone, helpless and vulnerable. They huddled together and looked around, trying to work out which way the women took Noctis.

“Who are these broads?”

“These _broads_ are The Women of Garn,” Ignis explained, “a group of healers sworn to protect and serve those in need no matter colour, creed or religion. They are widely unheard of because they are self-sufficient and rarely venture out or away from the Temple.”

“How did they get here?” Prompto asked, studying the artwork on the walls.

“The Temple of Garn has been here for thousands of years. The women are all here because they wanted to join and serve the common purpose.”

“Like a cult?” Gladio grunted.

“Like a hospital. They are healers, they are here to heal.”

“So what about the men?” Prompto asked.

“What men?”

“Well, surely some of the women want to…have children?”

“While serving as a Woman of Garn the women are sworn to celibacy. If they wish to leave and have children they are free to do so, but if they wish to return they must swear to the same oath.”

“So…no men then?”

“Men are not permitted to join the Temple.” Ignis confirmed.

“That’s a little sexist.” Gladio grunted.

“It is a rule agreed by all who serve here and it’s worked for centuries.”

Prompto stopped in front of a painting of a mostly nude woman, shrouded in purple with wrists and ankles glistening gold. Her skin was a deep golden brown, her eyes closed and her lips curved in a soft smile.

“That is Lady Unianne Garneria, the founder of the Temple of Garn.” Ignis answered the question Prompto didn’t ask.

There was a plaque at the bottom of the painting and Prompto read it out loud, “Lady Garneria was burned at the stake by those she once served, accused and charged of being a Red Mage, a class forbidden in the country at that time. Now she lingers in the lifestream, watching over the temple and those who worship her.”

“Legend says that she offers her healing powers to those who pray to her in times of need.” Ignis offered.

“If this temple is so unknown, how do you know so much about it?” Gladio folded his arms across his chest.

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Suddenly a door swung open and banged against a wall. A healer scurried out and ran quickly down the hall and into another door. A few moments later she burst back out into the hall and returned to the room she came from with a copper basin full of what looked like gasoline.

They watched the door as it closed behind her and shared a look between them. Ignis placed his hand gingerly on the door handle and pushed it down slowly. Once he felt it give, he pushed the door open with his shoulder, keeping close to the door and just opening it enough to peer inside without drawing attention to him.

The room was cluttered and chaotic, filled with herbs and medicinal instruments spilling out of every cupboard and drawer. The healers were all crowded around a stone table which was littered with markings and carvings. He could see Noctis’ arm draping down towards the ground as the healers moved swiftly around him. The Head-Healer was stood at Noctis’ head, holding an intricately decorated pole above him and closing her eyes, chanting something in a language Ignis had never encountered.

“What’s going on?” Prompto whispered, startling Ignis back to reality.

“They’re…treating him, I think?” Ignis muttered.

“You think?” Gladio raised his brow.

“I’ve never seen medical practices of the like.” He frowned, “I fear we may have put our hopes in the hands of a group of craz-” A sudden and hoarse gasp cut Ignis off and his jaw dropped open. “Noct!” He exclaimed, throwing the door open.

The healers turned to Ignis like a swarm of wasps, glaring at him. Three broke away from the group, just enough for Ignis to see Noct’s pained expression. He swiftly ducked out of the reach of the healers and rushed to Noct’s side. He reached out and grabbed Noct’s hand and clutched it to his chest, “Noct, can you hear me?”

The healers grabbed his arms from behind him and pried his hand away from Noctis’. “You cannot be here.” The Head-Healer said without looking at him.

“No, stop! Let go of me!” he shouted, pulling against the women, but losing the fight.

“You are disturbing the ritual. Leave now.” The Head-Healer ordered.

The healers threw Ignis unceremoniously out of the room and into Gladio and Prompto before shutting the door in their faces.

“You okay?” Gladio asked.

“What did you see? Is he alive?” Prompto shook Ignis’ arm like a desperate child.

“He is.” Ignis sighed in relief, straightening his jacket out. “For now at least, he looked very much alive.” He clasped his hands together, trying to memorise the feeling of Noctis’ warm skin between them.

Prompto clutched his head between his hands and blew out a breath of relief.

“If he’s alive then why won’t they let us in?” Gladio asked, frowning hard.

“The Head-Healer said that I was disturbing the ritual.” Ignis said.

“The _ritual_. What kind of witchcraft are they doing in there?”

“I don’t know. But it seems to be working.”

From behind the door Noctis screamed loudly. A pained, harsh, blood-curdling scream the likes of which the three had never heard.

“Or not.” Prompto muttered.

Ignis wasted no time rushing at the door again. But it wouldn’t open.

“The bitches locked it.” Gladio growled.

Ignis shook the door handle, trying desperately to open the door. Another scream ripped through the air and Ignis threw himself at the door.

Gladio grabbed him by the arm and moved him away, “We’re comin’, Noct!” Gladio called before hurling his shoulder at the wooden door and breaking it off the hinges.

The healers were all floating inches from the ground, sinking back to the ground upon Gladio’s entrance. They all looked at him, flames crawling out from their eyes. “How dare you interrupt the Ritual of Garn!” The Head-Healer’s voice booms across the room, fire climbing out of her eyes and into the air in front of her. They faded away into smoke as the ritual was disturbed. “You come here and ask for our help, ask us to heal your friend, and then dishonour our ancient service.”

“Please,” Ignis puts his hands together as if in prayer, “We ask for your forgiveness, but he’s more than just our friend.”

“He’s our brother,” Gladio said, crossing his arms, “We’re sworn to protect him with our lives.”

The Head-Healer considered them for a moment.

“We ask you to let us stay.” Ignis pleaded, “We won’t interfere; just allow us to remain here during the ritual.”

She sighed, “Well, you broke the door. So I guess we have to let you stay.” She nodded to the healers and two broke away from the huddle, making their way over to the door and proceeding to begin repairs. “Keep your distance.” She warned them, “And say nothing.”

Ignis nodded in gratitude and ushered the other two into the corner of the room.

The healers finished repairing the door and returned to the ritual. The Head-Healer began to chant once more, saying words they had never heard before, but that seemed to have some sort of affect on Noctis. He wriggled and writhed on the table like he was trying to get out of invisible constraints, his face contorted in pain.

In a sudden flash, the room erupted in flames. The healers rose up from the ground, their sandals suspended in the air and their hands held out in front of them, palms and faces pointed to the sky. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto watched in nothing but awe, unable to comprehend the magic they were witnessing.

After a few verses the flames intensified, climbing up the walls and closing in on Noctis and the stone table started to smoulder, smoke peering out of the intricate carvings in elaborate and beautiful shapes. As the chants continued, Noctis himself started to lift into the air, his head dropped back and his arms and legs dangling as an unseen force raised his body from the table.

Ignis held Gladio back. They were warned not to interfere and they had to obey. No matter what. He watched the Head-Healer intently. Her lips formed around alien words with such natural conviction he felt like she was speaking the language of the Gods, feeling the power behind them without even being able to understand them.

In the midst of the chant he caught the words “Regis Filius”, the Ancient term for The King’s Son. As soon as he heard it he scoured his brain’s catalogue for other Ancient phrases. Now that he had a root from which the language originated, he could try to interpret the rest of what the Head-Healer was saying.

They had reached a part in the ritual where the rest of the healers had started to repeat particular words in unison. It made it much easier for Ignis to try and translate as he got to hear it twice for clarification. He managed to interpret a couple of key phrases.

_“eradicate the dark”_

_“bring back to the light”_

_“Not lost”_

_“give him your power”_

_“almighty”_

_“true soul”_

_“lingers on”_

Thunder clapped and the flames were extinguished in the blink of an eye. Once their eyes had adjusted to the sudden darkness all the healers had gone. Apart from the Head-Healer. She stood behind Noctis’ head with her arms up, still holding the sacred looking staff in one hand.

Prompto opened his mouth to speak, but Gladio clapped a hand over it. They had to be sure the ritual was over before disturbing.

The Head-Healer looked to them and nodded. They rushed to Noctis without giving it a second thought.

He was breathing quickly, like he had just trained for hours with Gladio. He still looked as though he was in pain, but the wound was gone, reduced to a fresh pink scar. His skin was flushed and healthy, although he was still cold and covered in sweat.

“He will live.” She told them.

Ignis nearly cried with relief but he kept it together, clearing his throat to try and unblock it. “Thank you.” He said, his voice almost managing to keep it together without breaking.

“My healers will bathe him and put him to bed. He will need to rest for a while.” She told them. “You can stay here while he recovers.”

Prompto fell to his knees and grabbed hold of the Head-Healer’s hand, pressing it against his forehead, “Thank you so much.”

She looked for a moment like she was about to shake him off, but then stroked his hair and smiled. “That’s quite alright, child.”

“We owe ya one.” Gladio said, clearing his throat and folding his arms across his chest.

“There is no debt to be paid here, gentleman.” She shook her head calmly. “It is our sworn duty to heal the sick and rescue the injured. Especially the future Crown Prince of Lucis.”

They all looked nervously at one another.

“Do not have cause for concern, we will not disclose his presence here.”

“You are too kind…uh…” Ignis paused, realising he had not taken the time to learn the Head-Healer’s name in all the commotion and feeling awfully rude all of a sudden.

“I am Lady Calleja,” She said, “At your service.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Ignis nodded in introduction. “I am Ignis Scientia, this is Gladiolus Amicitia, Prompto Argentum and…well, as you know, that is Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

“It is our honour to welcome you all to The Temple of Garn.” Lady Calleja bowed her head, “Now, please allow Sister Achaiah to escort you to the guest quarters.” She gestured to a young healer who bowed at them from the door way and extended her hand towards the exit.

They expressed their gratitude to Lady Calleja once more before following Sister Achaiah out to the room and down the hall, hanging back for once last look at Noctis before leaving him once more in the healers’ capable hands.

 

* * *

 

 

Sister Achaiah led them to a small room with four single beds and a tiny bathroom. She provided them with clean towels and extra blankets before leaving them to freshen up.

“So,” Gladio spoke once Prompto closed the door to the bathroom and turned on the shower. “What the hell did we just watch?”

Ignis shook his head, sitting gently on the edge of the bed and pressing a hand gently to his side. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It had to be magic…but what kind?”

“I believe that Lady Garneria is more than just a Sacred Healer.”

“How much more?”

“She’s a God. Or at least a Demi-God.”

“Wait, this tiny little healing temple has their own personal God at their disposal? How come nobody knows about this?”

He shrugged. “Why would they? The healers keep to themselves and if they lock the friends and family out of the healing room like they did today then how would anyone know? They could just say that they used some kind of herbal remedy to heal them.”

Gladio frowned. “Why would they keep it a secret like that?”

“Think about how many people in the world are sick or injured. If everyone knew that there was a goddess who could cure death itself they would be overrun with patients.”

“But if Lady Garneria can help, why do they keep her power to themselves. They could heal thousands of innocent people. Victims of war, disease, evil-”

“Just because they _could_ save everyone, doesn’t mean they should.”

“So you’re saying they shouldn’t help innocent kids caught in the middle of a battlefield? Killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and robbed of the rest of their lives?”

“I’m saying with great power comes great responsibility. It is not for us to decide what they should or should not do with a power they have safely wielded for centuries. We should be grateful for their help and leave them to their own affairs once Noctis is recovered and we part ways.”

Gladio huffed and leaned back against the wall, looking away from Ignis.

Prompto burst out of the bathroom with a satisfied grin, steam spilling out into the room. He opened his mouth, no doubt to make a joke, but stopped. “Woah, what’d I miss?”

“A debate on the ethics of power. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.” Ignis remarked, stepping past him and locking himself in the bathroom to take his own shower.

“I bet that was cheerful.” Prompto muttered sitting on one of the beds and picking up his camera. He snapped a picture of Gladio’s sulking face and held back a giggle.

Gladio pushed himself off of the wall and walked towards the door, “I’m going out. Taking the Regalia.”

“Now? Where are you going?” Prompto frowned.

“Tell Specs I’ll be back by tomorrow.”

“But wait! Gladio!” He didn’t respond to Prompto’s cries and slammed the door shut behind him as he left.

Prompto sat on his own, not sure what to do. He set his camera down and got himself dressed in some casual clothes he had brought with him, wondering if it was pushing their luck to ask if the healers would clean their clothes for them. He decided he would ask Ignis.

Thoughts of Noctis entered his head and he sat back down on the bed, pushing the wet towel aside and picking his camera up again. He scrolled through his pictures from the last couple of days and tried not to let his bottom lip wobble. He’d never been that scared before; when Noctis was there on his lap, not breathing. Pale and dead. That feeling would never leave him; that choking feeling that someone close to him had been touched by death’s cold hands. It made him feel cold and alone, like a child again. He needed Noctis to wake up and put an arm around him. That cool and calm demeanour of his always made Prompto feel like everything was gonna be okay. Even when things went wrong, Noct could always make them feel like they would be alright again. As long as they all had each other.

 

* * *

 

Ignis came out of the bathroom, already dressed in clean clothes that Prompto didn’t see him bring with him. He dumped his other clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed he had claimed and gently touched his side as he sat down and combed through his wet hair with his fingers. He froze and looked around.

“Where is Gladiolus?”

Prompto shrugged. “Said he was going out and to tell you that he’d be back by tomorrow.”

Ignis cursed silently and sighed. This was the last thing they needed.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Gladio drove in silence. No radio. No friends to speak to him or keep him company. Just him, the Regalia and the moonlight. It was nice, if not a little bit lonely. He had gotten used to having the others around him all the time he had forgotten what it was like to be on his own. To rely on himself for company and support.

The daemons would be out already, feasting in the darkness, but that wouldn’t stop him.  He had a quest to complete  and he wouldn’t return to the temple until is was done. His surroundings started to look more familiar and he slowed down, studying the empty road and the areas either side. He was getting close to his destination. Just a bit farther.

The area was empty. Like nothing had happened. He stepped out of the car and slid his jacket on, feeling the cold night air whip past him. The wind was picking up sand and dust and throwing it up at his face so he took out a scarf and tied it around his nose and mouth. He had nothing to protect his eyes, but he would just have to grin and bear it.

He searched for a good while before frustration set in and he started to stomp on the earth. He summoned his weapon and slammed it down to the ground.

“Come on, you sons of bitches!” He growled, “Where are you now, huh?”

He thrashed around, hammering down on the hard, dry earth like a mad man and shouting expletives into the air.

“Get out here and face me! Come on, give me your best!”

His calls did not go unanswered for long. The ground started to vibrate under his feet and he stopped what he was doing, readying himself for battle. He zipped up his jacket over the bullet proof vest he had elected to wear and held his sword in both hands, muscles flexing in anticipation.

The creatures exploded out of the ground in a fury, scrambling towards Gladio on long gangling legs and snapping sharp red pincers at him. It was the first time he had noticed that their pincers were also red. That must mean that they were poisonous too, just like the legs. He had to be careful. Clearly these weren’t your average venomous bugs. The poison took hold of Noctis almost instantly and it was a miracle they managed to get him to the healers in time. There was no one here to rush Gladio to the temple, so getting caught by one of their legs or pincers was not an option. He had to be fast and he had to be smart.

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t believe this. What a time to just pick up and go off on your own.” Ignis ranted at Prompto, stalking the room in frustration. “I mean, really, how selfish can he be? Noct has just narrowly escaped the clutches of death and he decides that now is a good time to take a little solitary trip to God-knows-where. What does he expect us to do, wait around until he returns? What if he doesn’t come back when he said he will? Hmm? What if something happens to him? How are we supposed to know where he is or how to find him? I tell you, when I see him again, I am going to have some stern words for him.”

“He can’t have gone far. He wouldn’t leave Noct like this, you know he woudn’t.”

“But that’s exactly what he’s done.”

“Maybe he’s gone to see Iris?”

“Why are you making up excused for him, Prompto?”

“I’m not. You and I both know that he wouldn’t just up and leave at a time like this. There has to be a legitimate reason and if he says he’ll be back by tomorrow then that’s when he’ll be back.”

There was a knock at the door and Ignis leapt towards it, swinging it open and revealing a startled looking Sister Achaiah.

“Any news? Is he awake yet?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” She shook her head.

Ignis frowned, “I’m going to see if Gladio’s back yet.” He grunted before slipping past her and stalking down the hall.

Sister Achaiah clasped her hands together awkwardly, looking a little put out.

“Don’t mind him, he gets rude when he’s worried.” Prompto said and then snapped a picture of her. She lowered her head and rubbed her arm. “Oops, sorry. Did you not want your picture taken? I can get rid of it if you want.”

“No, i-it’s fine. I just…”

“What is it?” Prompto stood up, “Is it Noct?”

“I came here to warn you.”

“About what?”

“You and your friends, you must go. Now.”

“We can’t go. Lady Calleja said that Noct needs to rest first.”

“You must leave him. He cannot be saved.”

“What?”  Prompto felt himself become light-headed, “But she said—he’s alive, isn’t he?”

“He is, but not in the way you think.”

“I don’t get it.” Prompto put a hand to his forehead. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve said too much already, but, please, you must go _now_.”

“No way. We’re not leaving without Noct.”

“Then you are fools.” She sighed sadly and walked out of the room.

“Hey, wait a second.” Prompto followed her out into the hall, “You gotta tell me what’s going on here.”

A scream stopped the two in their tracks.

 

* * *

 

Ignis stepped out the front doors of the temple and stared at the empty space where the Regalia had been. He muttered to himself in frustration, cursing Gladio and his actions. He made his way down the path towards the dirt road and placed his hands on his hips, as if expecting Gladio to pull up at any moment.

He took a moment to enjoy the quiet. Night birds hooted and daemons howled in the distance. They were way off schedule now. They would have to really pick up the pace once they were out of there if they were to ever make it to the wedding on time. He told himself that that didn’t matter right now. As long as Noct made a full recovery, nothing else was as important.

The wound on his side was starting to throb and concerns muttered at the back of his mind. It could be infected, he thought. It might be an idea to ask one of the healers to take a look at it. He didn’t need the power of a God, just something to sterilise the area and maybe a neater hand to re-do the sutures. They wouldn’t rip, unless he exerted himself, but they weren’t his tidiest work.

The adrenaline was only now making it’s way out of him, leaving him feeling heavy and tired. They had had quite an eventful day and a good night of rest was sorely needed.

He knew he should head back inside soon. There was a chill in the air and he wanted to be close to Noct in case he woke up. But he stayed just a while longer, alone with his thoughts and his worries if only for now.

 

* * *

 

Gladio collapsed onto the ground, his weapon falling to his side. He had done it. He had exacted his revenge on the creatures that had almost killed Noct. But now he had not the energy, it felt, to make it back to the car. His muscles trembled and ached, his breathing hard and heavy. He pushed himself to his knees and groaned from the effort. The Regalia was a mere twenty feet from him, but felt like it was an ocean away.

He shuffled forward on his hands and knees, trying to summon the energy to get up to his feet.

And then he heard it.

The black and purple shadows swirled around on the road and the giant rose up, swinging its enormous sword in the air and letting out a terrifying roar.

_Shit._

* * *

The room was dark when Noctis opened his eyes. His whole body ached and trembled when he tried to move, despite the fact that he was enveloped in soft white sheets topped with a thick woollen blanket. He was sweating, but couldn’t bear to take blanket off of him. Taking a piece between his fingers, he hugged it closer to his body and closed his eyes. He felt awful.

The room was unfamiliar and it made him feel even worse. Not only did he feel so unwell, he also felt unsafe. When he glanced under the sheets he discovered he was wearing a white tunic and white cloth shorts. These weren’t his and he certainly didn’t remember putting them on. His friends would die for him, he knew that, but he doubted that they would have undressed him unless his clothes were on fire or doused in acid.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember what had happened at all. He remembered the hunt, the creatures, Prompto’s head was bleeding and then Ignis got hurt. Gladio also got hurt and then…

He found his hand holding his shoulder, where he had been stabbed. He pulled the neck of the tunic down and found a faint red scar, almost completely healed. How long had it been since the hunt? It felt like it was only a few hours ago, but the wound couldn’t have healed that quickly. It just wasn’t natural.

Worry started to creep into his mind and he decided that he needed to get out of there and find the others. He sat up very slowly and found his black prince fatigues folded on the end of the bed. He picked up his t-shirt and examined it. Freshly washed. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he forced himself out of the bed and changed into his own clothes, dumping the white garbs on the floor.

Before he could do anything else he needed to take a break. He fell back and perched on the edge of the bed, pulling hard for air and wiping the sweat from his brow.

The floor was made of old stone, like it had been there longer than the planet itself. Covering the walls were woven tapestries and intricate artefacts, hung up by thin rope and tiny rusted nails. Everything looked so old, like it was seconds from crumbling away into dust.

Noctis pushed himself back up to his feet and focused on making it to the door, trying not to knock the dusty old bottles of unknown liquid off of the worn wooden table as he stumbled across the room. He grabbed hold of the door handle and rested most of his weapon upon it, taking a brief rest before trying it. It wouldn’t budge. He was locked in.

He banged on the door with the bottom of his fist, “Hey!” He shouted, his throat sore and his voice hoarse, “Let me out!”

No one answered.

“Heyy!” He shouted louder and banged harder, fuelled by anger over being trapped, “Let me out! Now!”

“Fret not, my child.” A voice spoke to him from within the room and he jumped back against the wall in fright.

“Who’s there?” He summoned his sword, but was barely strong enough to hold it off the ground.

“You are safe here. With me. Forever.”

The words made him squirm and he raised his blade. “Show yourself!” the prince demanded.

The room suddenly fell cold. Noctis could see his breath dance out in front of him like smoke from a fire. A figure bathed in golden light appeared before him, clothing flowing around her like clouds. Her eyes opened and fire filled the sockets. She reached out a ghostly hand towards him and he felt the hairs on the back his neck stand up under her gaze.

Without warning she charged towards him, soaring across the room in the blink of an eye and taking hold of his throat in her hand. The spirit lifted him from the ground with ease and he lost the ability to breathe, kicking out at her body which wasn’t there. She was a spirit, but her hand was very much tightening around his neck.

She looked up at him now, flames reaching from her eyes to his until it bore into his head like a red hot drill and he let out a pained scream.

 

* * *

 

“Noct!” Prompto ran at the door that the scream came from and yanked on the handle. It was locked, obviously. “What are they doing to him in there?” he yelled at Sister Achaiah.

“There is no one in there with him.” She confirmed solemnly.

“Then what’s going on? Noct! You okay, buddy?” He shouted, still pulling on the door handle.

“You must go now.” Sister Achaiah pulled him from the door and pushed him away. “Before it is too late!”

“Too late for what?” Ignis asked, standing behind them with his arms crossed.

“Iggy! Something’s going on in there. It’s Noct, they’re doing something to him.” Prompto reported.

He stormed forward and took the door handle in his hand. “Noct, can you hear me?”

“Get out!” Noct shrieked from inside  the room and Ignis shifted into emergency mode.

“Open this door.” He ordered Sister Achaiah. “Now.”

“I cannot.” She shook her head, backing away. “It is too late. She has come.”

“Who has? Who’s come?” Ignis pressed.

“Lady Garneria. She has come to claim what is hers.”

Ignis grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her closer, not letting her escape. “You had better start making some sense. Tell me what is going on, right now!”

“What took place yesterday. It was not a healing ceremony.”

“Then what was it?”

“A sacrificial ritual.” Prompto covered his mouth with his hands.

Ignis’ face dropped, “Open this door,” His voice was low and gravelly. “Now.”

Sister Achaiah looked down at the dagger at her stomach.

“Iggy…” Prompto breathed in disbelief.

With trembling hands, she retrieved a set of keys from a belt tucked under her draping robes and made her way to the door. They key turned in the lock with a deep thunk and Ignis pushed the door open from over her shoulder, charging into the room.

Noctis was stumbling on his knee and Ignis and Prompto rushed to him, “Noct, are you alright.”

He groaned and pushed them, “Get away,” he said, clutching his chest.

“Noct, it’s okay,” Prompto took his arm, “We’re here to help,”

“No!” He cried, shoving Prompto to the ground, “Get out of here.”

“Noct, look at me.” Ignis put his hands on either side of Noct’s face and turned his head to face him. He looked at his face; the skin on his cheeks was scorched, pink and painful and flames loitered in the blue of his eyes. “Oh, Noct.” He sighed.

“What do we do?” Prompto looked to Sister Achaiah who was cowering by the doorway. “How do we stop it?”

“It is already done.” She shook her head. “I have never seen it undone.”

“There has to be a way.”

“Only Lady Calleja has the power to command the Gods, and only with a human sacrifice as payment.”

“Payment for what?” Ignis asked, “What has she commanded of Lady Garneria?”

“To claim the prince,” She admitted, “And take the throne.”

* * *

The Regalia let out a crunch as Gladio was thrown into its doors. He hit the floor and grunted in pain. This was such a bad idea. The worst he’d ever had. Ignis was going to have a field day with this. He shouldn’t have come on his own. Not at night. Not without telling the others where he was even going.

The giant let out a victorious moan and Gladio pressed his forehead to the ground. What was he going to do? How was he supposed to get out of this alive? He was all on his own. No back up.

With a threatening roar, the giant swung his sword up in the air above Gladio. He rolled away from the car with what little energy he had left in him and the sword came crashing down beside him, the force throwing him a few more feet away. He landed with a thud and groaned in pain. This couldn’t be how it all ended, not for Gladiolus Amicitia. Not here, in such a sorry state, while Noct himself was inches from death. This wasn’t what he was destined to do; to die alone on the road without anyone knowing where he is. Not only had he failed when he let Noctis get poisoned by that creature, but now he had failed him again. This time he let himself get killed instead. It was the better of the two options, but he shouldn’t have let either happen at all.

The giant raised his sword one last time. The final blow. Gladio closed his eyes. He had nothing left, nothing but regret and failure. He felt the sword coming at him, cutting through the air like a fish through water, and at the last second he leapt to his feet. He charged at the giant and ran it through with his sword, right through its belly. It let out a deep groan and dropped to the ground before fading away in a whirlpool of black and purple, leaving Gladio truly alone.

He collapsed on the road, fading into the darkness also.

 

* * *

 

“Noct, listen to me, you have to fight it okay?” Ignis pleaded with him, still holding his face gently between his hands.

“I c-can’t,” Noct cried, “It’s burning.”

“You can’t let her win.”

Noct shut his eyes tight and screamed in agony, his body tensing all over, “Get it out of me!”

“Prompto, I need you to find Gladio. Call him, call anyone, find him!” Ignis ordered and Prompto sprinted from the room, heading back to the guest quarters.

He retrieved Ignis’ phone and quickly called up Gladio’s phone. It rang out without an answer. He hung up and tried again. Maybe he’s driving, he thought. He called Cindy who hadn’t seen him. He called every tipster and friend he could think of, but no one had seen sight nor sound of him. Panic started to take hold and his fingers trembled over the screen. He dialled Gladio one last time, laying all his prayers on that call.

“Iggy,” Gladio groaned weakly into the phone, “I screwed up, man.”

“Gladio? It’s Prompto!” he shrieked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I did it.” He grunted. “I killed the bastards that got Noct.”

“The crawlers? That’s why you left? To get revenge?”

“Yeah,” he sounded exhausted, “Then a daemon showed up.”

“Are you hurt? You sound hurt?”

“I’ll be okay.” He said, but Prompto was not convinced, “How’s Noct, he awake yet?”

“Yeah, but Gladio it’s not good.”

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is he alive?”

“That ritual they did? It was a sacrifice, they sacrificed him to that Lady Garn whatever-her-name-is. He’s, like, being possessed or something.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“But Glad--” Prompto didn’t finish his sentence because Gladio had hung up.

He turned to leave and tell Ignis about the call but Sister Achaiah was blocking the doorway.

“You have to take me with you.” She said.

“What?”

“Please?” She walked to him and put her hands on his chest, “I am sorry about your friend, but if you leave now she may spare you. You can take me with you. Not far, just anywhere away from here, please.”

“I need to get back to them.” He shook his head and moved to get around her but she wouldn’t let him.

“I’m begging you,” she sobbed, “they’ll kill me if they find out.”

“Find out what?”

“I was supposed to kill you.” She said, “While you slept I was ordered to kill you all.”

“By Lady Calleja?”

She nodded, “You had seen too much, she wanted to get rid of you to stop you telling people about what you had witnessed.”

“So, if she finds out we’re still alive…”

“She will try to kill you herself…and then me.”

“Oh my—Ignis!” He yelled, charging out of the room.

 

* * *

 

“You can fight this, Noct, come on!” Ignis was holding Noctis up, watching him writhe and cry out in pain. He wasn’t answering anymore, he wasn’t even sure the prince could still hear him, but he kept trying. He couldn’t give up, and he wasn’t about to let Noct give up either.

The glow emitting from his eyes had intensified, almost completely drowning the blue with blinding white light as the Goddess was taking hold of him.

“Noct, _please!_ ” Ignis screamed, “I can’t let you give up like this! Not like this, please not like this!” He cradled Noct in his arms, just like he had when the prince was young and he’d had a nightmare or when he met a dog that was bigger than him for the first time. Hot tears ran down his face as he watched Noct disappear, the pained expression on his face dissolving as the white light completely invaded his eyes. “Noct?” he whimpered.

“Not anymore.” Lady Garn answered and struck Ignis across the face before scrambling out of his arms.

Ignis scurried to his feet and faced “Noct”. He wasn’t in there anymore, but it was still his body and therefore the prospect of a fight was met with deep dread.

“Ignis!” Prompto yelled from outside before hurrying into the room. He looked between the two and gulped. “Noct?” He stepped gingerly towards his friend, staring at the light glaring out of his eye sockets.

“Stay back, Prompto,” Ignis warned, “It’s not Noct anymore.”


	4. Chapter 4

Lady Garneria rolled her neck and it crunched, “So, this is the future Chosen King. The Crown Prince of Lucis.” She smiled, admiring the body she inhabited. “Very nice,” she remarked, “Powerful.”

“And not yours,” Ignis growled, “Now, get out!”

She looked at him, eating him up with her glowing white eyes, “Well, aren’t we demanding?” She smiled in a way Noctis could never. With such malicious intent it almost looked like someone else for a second.  “Let me see, you must be Ignis.”

Ignis was visibly seething, his chest throbbing his the veins in his neck jutting out under his skin.

“My,” she continued, lapping up his rage like a lavish dessert, “He certainly thinks a lot of you.” She started to laugh to it was like a piercing shriek to Prompto and Ignis. Almost unbearable to hear. Noct’s laugh was so easy and gentle. Hers was like a thousand knives cutting into the air. “He thinks he can stop me from killing you.”

Prompto slowly drew his gun. That was his friend’s body she was violating and it was too much for him to bear. He placed his finger on the trigger and then froze in place, panic washing over him in a cold shower. He couldn’t shoot her, she was hiding in Noct. To get to her would mean hurting his best friend. Looking at Ignis he realised that he had already come to that conclusion and could practically see the gears turning behind his glasses.

Lady Calleja appeared at the door in a flushed hurry, her cheeks pink and her eyes wide. “Lady Garneria?” She breathed in disbelief, walking slowly towards her, “Is it truly you?”

“It is.” Lady Garneria reached out her hand and took Lady Calleja’s stopping them from trembling in awe. “You released me. Finally after all these years.”

“My Lady,” She sank to her knees, clutching the glove on Lady Garneria’s hand and pressing her forehead to her hands, “It was my honour.”

“Yes it was.” She nodded, smiling. The smile turned sour and Ignis felt vomit rise to his throat. “And your mistake.” She snapped Lady Calleja’s neck so fast Prompto missed it, watching the woman crumple to the floor in shock.

Ignis pushed Prompto behind him protectively. He watched Noct’s face, waiting for a hint of the prince to leak through and reassure him. There was no trace to be found however, and Lady Garneria stepped over the corpse she had just created with less than a little regard.

“I-is she dead?” Prompto scrunched up his face, peering over Ignis’ shoulder at Lady Calleja.

“I believe so.” He replied, watching Lady Garneria exit the room. “Did you find Gladio? Is he alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, he said he’d be here in ten.”

“We’re going to need all the help we can get.” Ignis sighed.

“How are we supposed to fight her without hurting Noct?”

“We can’t.” Ignis said, “Not without Lady Calleja. We’re just going to have to try not to kill him.”

“You say that like it’s going to be easy.”

 

* * *

 

Gladio had just about made it into the driver’s seat in the amount of time he had told Prompto he would be back at the temple. If he wasn’t in for a lecture from Ignis already then he had just sealed his fate.

He tried not to think about the blinding ache of his muscles and focused on his duty. Noct needed him. No matter what state he arrived in he was going to make sure that he was at least there. He had fought worse battles, faced worse foes and pushed through more pain in his long career. This was nothing, he told himself.

So he pushed and kept pushing himself, switching on the ignition, shifting into gear, easing the Regalia forward like an old cart horse. Slow and steady to start with. He could feel his eyes trying to shut, his mind telling himself that he was just one man. How did he expect to fight two battles all on his own and not suffer the consequences of still being just a mere mortal?

Because he wasn’t just a mere mortal. He was Gladiolus Amicitia, Shield of the Crown Prince of Lucis, and he wasn’t about to let a bunch of overgrown spiders and a boorish daemon get in the way of him performing his duty as such. He urged the Regalia forward, increasing the force on the gas pedal and listening to that glorious engine purr.

The sun was starting to rise when he first saw the smoke, dancing in front of the rainbow of blue, orange and pink that was streaming across the dawn. Stars were still shining, fighting for visibility behind the veil of smoke reaching up towards them from the burning temple.

His jaw fell open, his gut dropping through his seat.

_No._

He couldn’t be too late. His foot slammed down and the Regalia roared, soaring up the hill as if on wings instead of wheels.

 

* * *

 

Ignis cried out as he hit the wall, clutching at his wound which had started to open and seep blood onto his grey t-shirt.

“Ignis!” Prompto cried out as Lady Garneria pinned him to the wall, his own dagger against his throat.

He held an arm out towards Prompto, warning him not to intervene. It had been years since Ignis had felt Noctis’ strength used against him. Gladio was the one who trained with him, focused on his ability to fight and become stronger. Although he was fairly confident that he could overpower the prince, he was starting to feel doubt creep in. Especially since he wasn’t really the prince right now.

“Noct, I know you’re in there,” he spoke calmly but firmly, “I don’t want to hurt you, but you have to put an end to this.”

Lady Garneria laughed, “You know, you’re not as smart as he thinks you are.”

That got Ignis in a place he wish didn’t exist. He fought with his expression, trying to keep it balanced because he knew what she was trying to do.

“I mean it, Noct,” he warned.

She laughed again, throwing her head back as flames exploded out of every corner of the entrance hall. Prompto screeched as the fire started to climb up his legs and bit into his clothes.

Lady Garneria looked at Ignis again, flames bursting out of her eyes and searing Noctis’ skin. Ignis couldn’t hide his horror, watching the skin on the prince’s cheekbone burn and blister. “You think you’re any match for a God?” Two voices came out of Noctis’ mouth. His and _hers_. The dagger inched closer to Ignis’ throat. If he swallowed it would pierce his larynx. “Wretched mortal.”

She started to drag the blade across Ignis’ flesh and he cried out, trying to push against her but not having the strength.

“You will all learn your place. When I take the throne of Lucis you will all burn.” Noct’s voice was barely audible beneath hers, growling at Ignis while Prompto watched on in horror.

“Hey, bitch!” Gladio stood in the doorway, scarred face twisted in rage, “Get the hell out of him.”

Gladio ran forward and tackled Lady Garneria, hitting Noctis’ ribs like a hammer and knocking them all to the ground.

Ignis scrambled backwards and clutched at his throat, blood trickling through his fingers, as Gladio straddled Lady Garneria, pinning her arms under his knees. She growled in fury, the flames in her eyes climbing higher and burning hotter.

“I don’t want to hurt the prince,” Gladio was breathing heavily, “but I will if it means you getting the hell outta him.”

Lady Garneria shrieked and flames burst up under Gladio. He cried out in pain and fell to the side as the flames enveloped him. Prompto scrambled over and patted out the flames as Lady Garneria climbed back up to her feet.

“Pathetic,” she quipped and walked towards the door.

Ignis had had enough. He pulled himself to his feet and drew his weapons, neck still bleeding lightly. He prepared to strike but the God was too quick, catching his wrist and twisting sharply. It snapped and she threw him to the ground to writhe in pain. Gladio reacted instantly, jumping up and charging at her. She rolled her neck and it cracked twice before meeting Gladio’s forehead with hers at full force. It almost knocked him out and he fell to the floor, blinking to rid his vision of stars.

“Is that really the best the Crown Prince’s band of fools can do?” She laughed wickedly, “It would have been easier to just charge into the palace and take the throne myself.”

With a groan of effort, Ignis pulled himself to his feet once more and tackled her, bringing her to the ground. He did just as he watched Gladio do and pinned her arms under his knees. He raised his fist and froze, hand trembling. Gladio might have been able to hurt Noct, but Ignis knew he never could. He fought against every instinct in his soul, trying so hard to overcome his love for Noct just for one second. Long enough to save him.

But he couldn’t, and to reward his loyalty Lady Garneria slipped her arms out from under him and wrapped her hands around his neck, rolling them both over so she now had the upper hand. She pressed down and started to strangle him, shaking and jerking her arms to cause more pain to his bloodied throat.

In the end it was Prompto who found it within himself to do what was necessary. As he watched his friends fight amongst the tortuous flames he knew exactly what he needed to do. He watched Noctis climb on top of Ignis and choke him. Ignis’ face started to turn purple and his hands started to shake, his eyes rolling back behind his glasses. Gladio tried and failed. He crawled over to them and grabbed hold of his wrist, but Noct swatted him away with one hand and then kicked him in the face. That was him. Gladio was out cold, his hand still reaching towards Noct.

Without anyone to interrupt, Ignis continued to be strangled. His hand, which was clutching at Noct’s shoulder, slowly lost its grip and dropped to the ground.

Prompto stood up and drew his firearm. He lined up the shot and pulled the trigger without giving it a second thought. The bullet found its home in Noct’s shoulder, where the original injury had been from the creature that poisoned him.

Lady Garneria screeched and rose to her feet, clutching at her shoulder. She turned, eyes burning and teeth bared. With Noct’s power, she warped to Prompto, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him from the ground.

“Wretched boy.” She shrieked as Prompto dropped his gun, clutching onto Noct’s hand.

“Please, Noct…” he croaked, “Don’t let her do this.”

“Nobody can stop me, you fool!” She cackled, blood now streaming down Noct’s black t-shirt.

Prompto glanced behind her at his friends. Lifeless. They couldn’t be dead. They couldn’t be. But that’s what it looked like, and Prompto knew that he was next.

Lady Garneria was breathing hard, like an excited child, with a crazed expression. She was drunk on power. Feeling Noct’s immense powers, granted to him by the line of Lucis, had driven her truly mad. No longer was she the beautiful Lady depicted in the painting on the wall. She was a demented spirit on a warpath for power.

Her expression changed suddenly, like something had pricked her in the back. She dropped Prompto, who stumbled back and fell to the ground, coughing and rubbing his throat. Her brows furrowed, her flaming eyes searching from left to right.

“No…” she murmured. “How can this be?” her arm still outstretched as if she were still holding Prompto.

The flames started to turn blue. First only at the ends, and then they were burning cyan at the very heart of the fires.

Prompto scrambled backwards in fear, meeting the wall behind him, before the fires suddenly intensified by tenfold, scratching at the walls and dancing across the ceiling in a frenzy. Lady Garneria’s head snapped back and she let out an almighty scream.

 

* * *

 

 

As Ignis regained consciousness the first thing her heard was Noct. He was screaming. His eyes opened immediately, the sobering sounds of his ward’s screams waking him up in an instant. He tried to call to him but his voice crumbled, his throat searing with pain and wet with blood. Memories started to creep back to him and he pieced the situation together in his head, remembering where he left off.

_Noctis above him._

_Burning eyes and a sickening smile._

_Choking._

_Pleading._

He looked to his right and saw the top of Gladio’s head. Blood had spread out in a puddle in front of his face. The room was dark, but he could just about see Prompto’s fair hair in the pink sunlight that peered in through the shattered windows. He could hear sniffing and sobbing and immediately thought the worst. That’s his job.

He gently rose to seated position, allowing head rush to catch up with him and settle before getting to his feet. For a few steps he stumbled, his vision blurred and unsteady as he focused on the shape of Prompto’s head and directed himself that way. When he was close enough he could see the whole picture.

Prompto was knelt beside Noctis, holding his hand to his chest and crying. The prince’s eyes were open; blue and bright once more. But nothing else about him signified life.

Ignis collapsed to the ground and crawled the rest of the way. He knelt over Noctis and touched his face, then his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was slow and soft, but it was there. If Prompto wasn’t there then he would have cried too. The ordeal was finally over. The prince is alive at least.

“How long has he been like this?” Ignis asked Prompto. His voice came out hoarse and barely audible.

Prompto looked at him, momentarily blinded by the sunrise, “I don’t know…twenty--thirty minutes?” He frowned and examined him further. There was a wound in his shoulder but it was dressed. Not very neatly, but better than nothing. He guessed it was Prompto’s work and so he couldn’t complain. “Is Gladio okay?”

Ignis nodded, “he’s breathing. That will have to do for now. For both of them.”

Prompto nodded, “What do we do now?”

He sighed, “We gather our things and get the hell out of here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio woke up first. Prompto had already gathered up all of their things and thrown them in the Regalia and Ignis had Gladio’s head balanced in his lap, busy suturing the latest scar on his face.

“Nice of you to join us.” Ignis said, a faint smile escaping.

“Where is he?” Gladio grunted and sat up, pulling the needle out of Ignis’ hand.

“For goodness sake!” He cried, “Do you want to tear half of your face off?”

“Where is he?” Gladio growled.

“What are you talking about?” Ignis sighed, “He’s right there--” He pointed at the empty space where Noctis had been laying and his jaw dropped. “I swear, whatever God wants him next can have him.” He grimaced.

 

* * *

 

Noctis watched as the sun carried on its journey into the sky and dawn came to an end. He looked down at his hands and wriggled his fingers, trying to rid himself of that feeling. Every time he thought about it he wanted to vomit. He wanted to rip off his skin and take a year-long shower.

Someone else had been in control of his body. He felt violated. More so than he ever thought possible. The things she made him do…He could hardly shoulder the guilt. He nearly killed every one of his friends. He _did_ kill Lady Calleja. Some could argue that he didn’t actually kill her, but he did. They were his hands that broke her neck. He would never forget that feeling.

Was she a good person? No, she sold him to a power-hungry god. But he was forced to take her life. He killed her unwillingly and that would stay with him forever.

“Hey,” Prompto smiled, walking back up from the Regalia to the temple, “Welcome back.”

Noctis glanced up and then at the ground, “Thanks,” he muttered.

“How’re ya feeling?”

“How do you think?”

“Sorry about the uh…” Prompto pointed awkwardly at Noctis’ shoulder wound.

“Are you serious?” Noct frowned at him.

“I had to do it. I didn’t want to--”

“No,” he shook his head, “You’re apologising to _me_?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“After everything I did--”

“That wasn’t you--”

“Yes it was!” Noct snapped.

“No!” Prompto snapped back just as hard. “You weren’t the one who did all those awful things. You were the one who stopped her from doing worse.”

“You stopped her from killing Ignis.”

“And you stopped her from killing me!” Prompto held his arms out wide to illustrate his point. “Stop beating yourself up for something you didn’t do, okay?”

Noctis let out a deep sigh, trying to force himself to let go of all the guilt. He didn’t get rid of it all, but it helped.

“Noct!” Ignis barked, stepping out of the temple doorway. “What’s going on, are you alright?”

Noct smiled weakly, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.” He straightened his shirt. “Let’s go, you need to eat something.”

When they got to the diner they ordered almost everything on the menu and ate like animals that hadn’t eaten all winter. Except for Ignis, who spent half and hour chastising the tipster for not including the fact that the Red-Tipped Crawlers were poisonous on the poster.

He collected their reward for the hunt and returned to the table. “Now that that’s taken care of.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Time to get back on the road?” Noct asked.

“Precisely.”

“No more detours, huh?” Gladio sighed.

“No thank you.” Prompto shook his head.

Noct nodded in agreement, “From here it’ll be smooth sailing.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1) This is my first Final Fantasy XV fic because I got the game for Christmas and only just finished it, but I guarantee there will be more to come in the future…
> 
> 2) If you like what you see please leave me a comment! I would love to hear back from people about what they like and what I need to improve on for future writing!
> 
> 3) Also, I'm planning 3 other fics for FFXV (one really short, one really long and another that's going to be somewhere in the middle) so please let me know if you would be interested in reading those.


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